‘Dramatic,’ he remarked. Then said, ‘Let’s get the hell out of here.’

* * *

Fantastic light cut in a slow arc across the sky, and grounded at the distant runcible installation. There the finned cooling towers were haloed in St Elmo’s fire. Jarvellis leant forward on the controls of the private AGC Pelter had stolen and shook her head in wonderment. After a moment the light winked out, and by contrast the day seemed unreasonably dark.

‘Now, that you can explain in a minute,’ she began. ‘But first tell me about that shit Pelter.’

Stanton smiled at her. He couldn’t stop smiling at her. When he’d come upon the grounded shuttle and seen her climbing out, he thought he’d finally flipped. But now, every minute, he was realizing it was true. And whether that applied to him having flipped or her actually being here he did not know, or care.

‘He’s dead. I think they’re all dead,’ he said.

‘Did you see them die?’

‘I saw Pelter—and I checked afterwards. He had that agent cold from about four metres back with a pulse-gun. Shit, I’ve never seen someone move so fast. I think Pelter winged him, before he freaked. He blasted away at the tree the agent ducked behind, then he seemed to lose it, and started backing off. The agent stepped out after that, calm as you like, and shot him. When he was gone I took a look. Hole right through the centre of Pelter’s forehead and out the back.’

‘Good. What about the others?’

‘I think Mennecken and Corlackis got hit by an APW. I found some bits of Dusache stuck to the launcher, and Svent got hit in the crossfire between the agent and Pelter.’

‘That’s it, then,’ said Jarvellis and sat back. She appeared as wasted as Stanton felt. With what she’d been through, he wasn’t the least bit surprised. He looked at the flat material over her left breast.

‘Now I think we get off this planet and find somewhere safe. Somewhere . . . peaceful and sunny. We’ll get you that reconstructive surgery as well.’

Jarvellis looked at him tiredly. ‘There’ll be people hunting for us here,’ she said, ‘and we haven’t got a ship anymore. How exactly do you think we’ll get away from here?’

Stanton reached into the back of the AGC, brought a briefcase forward and laid it on his lap. The briefcase was battered, its framework showing through at the corners, and there were suspicious-looking spatters spread across it. Even so, the Norver Bank logo was still visible on it.

‘I reckon we’ll find a way,’ he said.

At last Jarvellis managed to respond to Stanton’s smile. She decided she’d give him the other news once they were somewhere safe—and when Stanton had lost any inclination to run.

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